Chapter 15 The Trial
The Trial
After the opening statements, there was a week allocated for the prosecution to call witnesses and present its evidence against Miles.
The whole evening in question was pieced together through WhatsApp messages, CCTV and phone data.
It was creepy to see his movements recorded in grainy, covertly captured images: him driving, sitting in a restaurant, walking through the entrance of a pub.
And it was disturbing the way the prosecution made a concerted effort to portray Miles as entitled and selfish, which seemed incredibly unfair.
Also disturbing was the evidence from Caira’s friend, who had gone to call for her and spotted her body through the living-room window.
Next called as a witness was a police officer who described the crime scene as they had found it.
Some of Caira’s clothing had been removed and neatly folded.
Her hands had been washed in bleach. Even the first officers on the scene had a pretty clear idea of how she died: there was a visible ligature mark around her neck, as well as other inglorious physical signs she’d been strangled.
A pathology witness explained that it would have taken multiple minutes of sustained pressure around her neck for the life to be squeezed out of her.
As unpleasant as this all was, it was also crucial to Miles’s defence.
In cross-examination of these witnesses, Eleanor had established that whoever killed Caira must have spent at least twenty minutes inside her flat.
And that detail would be vital when it came to the testimony of the defence’s most important witness: Elis.
It was the second Thursday of the trial when Elis appeared to give evidence. He looked nervous, rubbing the back of his neck as he approached the witness box.
As Elis was appearing as a witness for the defence, Eleanor went first, gently questioning him.
She began by asking Elis about his friendship with Miles, how they’d got to know each other, then moved on to what he was doing on the day of Miles’s date with Caira.
Elis explained that he’d spent most of the day on a location shoot at a country house in Gloucestershire.
The job – a two-line part as a footman in a period drama – finished late, and it was gone nine by the time he’d driven back to Bristol.
Even so, he’d still managed to summon the energy to get himself down to the gym after work.
‘Mr Pritchard-Jones, do you remember what sort of exercise you did in the gym that evening?’
Elis considered this for a moment. ‘It was leg day, so I did squats, Romanian deadlifts, walking lunges, and calf raises.’
Eleanor nodded. ‘You seem very certain about that. Would you describe yourself as someone who has a good memory?’
‘I would, yes. Very much so.’
‘And do you remember what you had for dinner that night?’
‘I do. I had chicken thighs with broccoli and sweet potato.’
‘Thank you, Mr Pritchard-Jones. And what did you do after you had your dinner that night?’
‘It was late, so I just put my feet up and watched some TV.’
‘And do you remember what you watched?’
Elis scratched his head. ‘I remember I was flicking through the apps and not really feeling inspired by any of it, so I switched to the terrestrial channels. My favourite film was coming on, so I thought I’d watch a bit of that before I went to bed.’
‘And what’s the title of that film?’
‘Chinatown.’
Eleanor retrieved a print copy of the Radio Times from a file and opened it to a page marked with a blue tab. ‘Mr Pritchard-Jones, I’m going to ask you to look at an exhibit, now. Do you have a bundle in front of you?’
Elis confirmed that he did.
‘If you could turn to page twenty-three, you should see a photocopy of a page from the Radio Times, which published a timetable of television programmes scheduled for broadcast on the third of December last year. Members of the jury, you’ll find the exhibit at the same place in your bundle.’
There was a pause while everyone flicked through the documents to locate the right page. Eleanor bit her lip as one man appeared flustered and took a little longer than the others.
She turned back to Elis. ‘As you can see, according to the TV listings, Chinatown came on at precisely twelve-thirty a.m. Does that sound correct to you?’
‘It does.’
‘Thank you, Mr Pritchard-Jones. So, at twelve-thirty a.m., you began to watch Chinatown by yourself, is that right?’
‘Actually, no. Just as it was about to start, there was a tap at my window.’
‘And were you expecting a visitor?’
‘No, I wasn’t. But there’s only one person who taps on my window like that’ – Elis pointed at Miles – ‘and that’s him.’
For a moment, every member of the jury turned to look at Miles, before switching their attention back to Elis and Eleanor.
‘Thank you, Mr Pritchard-Jones. And when Miles turned up at your flat, did you let him in?’
‘I did.’
‘And how would you describe Miles’s appearance at this point? Did he seem in any way agitated, stressed, on edge, out of breath, anything like that?’
Elis shook his head. ‘No, not at all. He was calm, totally normal. It was clear he’d had a bit to drink, but otherwise he was just his regular, happy self.’
‘Thank you. And what happened next?’
‘We sat down to watch the movie. The opening sequence to Chinatown is quite long, so Miles told me a little bit about his date, and then I told him to shut up once we got to the first scene. Miles passed out on the sofa after about half an hour. Eventually I did, too. I woke again a few hours later. Miles was still asleep, and I dragged myself off to bed, at about five in the morning, I think.’
‘Thank you, Mr Pritchard-Jones, you’ve been very helpful. Before I finish, I’d like to circle back to a very important point, if I may. You say Miles turned up at your flat just before twelve-thirty a.m. Are you quite certain about that?’
‘I am, yes.’
‘The reason I want to check is because the timing of this is quite a crucial detail. We know from Caira’s phone data that she and Miles arrived back at her flat at twelve minutes past midnight.
That would mean Miles had a maximum of eighteen minutes to go into Caira’s home and then walk the eight hundred yards to your flat.
Can you be absolutely sure that Miles arrived at your flat by twelve-thirty a.m.? ’
Elis nodded firmly. ‘Yes. I clearly remember telling Miles how lucky he was to have turned up just in time to watch the greatest movie ever made. It was just before twelve-thirty.’
‘And you are one hundred per cent sure of that?’
‘Yes. I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.’
‘Thank you, Mr Pritchard-Jones. No further questions, your ladyship.’